03 February 2015
I'll get it done if it kills me
I've decided it's a new year and about time I try to envigorate all the plans I had to get the house up to scratch since Greg died. Knocked back last autumn by the setback of the rain coming through the roof, coupled with the untimely accident of my mother's broken knee, I got off track somewhat and everything was put on hold. Onwards and upwards, I have decided it can wait no longer.
I've shortlisted a roofer to come and sort the roof out and blow the guarantee with the original roofer who put it on 2 years ago. Work on that starts in a week or so. I'm getting someone to sort out my front door which suddenly won't shut properly without slamming it so hard, it causes the whole neighbourhood to quake. I'm also trawling for builders to do a bit of cementwork between brickwork, where it has come a bit loose. I've arranged for someone to repair my fence which started to loll to one side, when my neighbour decided to have their garden landscaped and had a go at it from their side. Once that's done, I'm getting two new bathrooms. I'm finally sick of the Sixties-style yellow suite and grey tiles in one of them and peach suite and white tiles in the other. Why is it Vintage can be OK in clothes but not in baths? So I am a busy bee.
I'm a little perturbed by the amount of unsolicited mail I'm getting offering me life insurance or urging me to consider saving for my own funeral. Is someone trying to tell me something?